Keep calm and keep the partner alive
by Paul Auchon
Summary: Napoleon and Illya are on a mission to retrieve a file containing important information. Things get complicated when they realize that they are not the only ones looking for the file. Napoleon and Illya get captured and Napoleon has to buy some time and try to keep his partner alive until they can be rescued.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: I don't own the characters, just borrowed them :) . This is my first story and I hope you enjoy it.**

Napoleon was running up the stairs, Illya following close, the Russian was cursing under his breath. _How does he do that_ , wondered the American, marveling at his partner's ability to express his anger even in the most extreme conditions. He himself was too out of breath to curse. While his main preoccupation was escaping from their pursuers, one part of his brain was also focusing on the sound of his partner's footsteps behind him and the stream of expletives he was quietly spitting out in Russian.

Their mission, assigned by Waverly, was to retrieve a file, full of invaluable information, as always. That file was kept in a safe, in a room on the third floor of a five-story mansion. Gaby had provided them with all the information they needed to easily complete the mission. A week earlier, she had approached the mark at a party. Her cover was very convincing and Gaby was a stunning woman so it wasn't long before the man invited her for dinner to his sumptuous -and isolated- countryside mansion. After an impressive dinner -and after spiking his wine with a potent sleeping drug- she had searched the whole house, located the hidden safe and vanished. Her host would wake up the next day, thinking he had passed out from too much wine and she had gone home out of boredom. And even if he was suspicious, nothing was missing so he would soon forget about this botched evening.

Gaby had done her part of the job and was now waiting for them outside in the car. However things were not exactly going as planned. Locating the room and cracking the safe had been easy enough, thanks to Napoleon's nimble fingers. It was when they were getting ready to leave that things had gotten complicated. They had made their way back to the ground floor when they'd realized that they were no longer alone in the mansion.

"Expecting someone, Peril?" Napoleon had whispered as Illya was shooting him a questioning look. The two spies had left the lights off so the rooms were shrouded in darkness. Straining his ear, Napoleon could only make out a whispering voice "Get the file, find them and kill them", then silent footsteps -more than just two men judging by the sound- advancing in their direction.

"Must have seen the flashlights", Illya had whispered while they retreated up the stairs as fast and as silently as they could. Then Napoleon, forgetting that the step leading to the landing was higher than the others had tripped and though Illya's arm had shot out to steady him, he had dropped the file. In the stillness of the house, the heavy cardboard folder hitting the floor had sounded as loud as a gunshot. They 'd heard footsteps running up the stairs and, forgetting all attempts at being furtive, had started galloping up the steps themselves.

The reason why Solo's attention was divided between running and listening to his partner was that a significant part of the insults coming out of Illya's mouth was directed at him.

They reached the fifth floor and located the opening that led to the roof. The house was surrounded with woods, and some thick trees were very close to one side of the roof. Solo was hoping they'd manage to reach a tree and make their way down quickly and, hopefully, undetected. The two spies set foot on the roof and Illya closed the opening behind them. It had been raining and the slates were slippery. The roof was flat for the most part but they would have to be careful on the slanted edges. Napoleon spotted a tree that was really close to the edge of the roof and looked like an excellent candidate for their escape. He tried to reach the nearest branch but it was a bit too high for him and the file was hindering his movements. He looked down and spotted thick bushes not far from the tree. He decided to throw the folder in the bushes. It would be well hidden and he'd retrieve it easily. He would be down in no time, after all. With both hands free now, he proceeded to jump as high as he could to try and catch the branch. Just as he was doing that, his foot slipped on the wet slates and he lost his balance. He felt himself falling, twisted in mid-air and managed to grab the gutter. He was now dangling from the top of the roof. His heart was tap dancing in his chest but at least he was alive.

Illya, who had witnessed Solo's incredible performance, cursed again. Loudly. Seriously did the man have no balance? He rushed to the edge of the roof, dropped to his knees and extended his arm to grab Solo's hand. With his attention focused on the American, he didn't see the blow coming. Something hit him hard on the back of the head, not hard enough to knock him out or cause him to fall over the edge, but still enough to leave him groggy. Illya knew he needed to get up, or at least turn around to face whoever had attacked him, but his brain was foggy and his body refused to cooperate, he hated being so helpless. Before he could recover, an arm was wrapped around his neck and pulled him backwards. His assailant quickly grasped his own biceps, locking the Russian's head in a chokehold, the man then started tightening his grip, his hand pushing on the back of Illya's head, compressing his carotid arteries. Realizing what was happening, Illya feebly reached to grab his opponent's arm but he knew it was too late, the choke was expertly executed and he was already feeling tingly and lightheaded. Black crept into the edges of his vision. A few seconds later, consciousness had left him.

In the meantime, two other men had pulled Napoleon back on the roof and were holding him while a third man was tying his hands together in front of him. His eyes were on Illya. His partner appeared to be unconscious. Another man had him in a chokehold, his legs wrapped around the Russian's chest.

"Well, what do we have here?"

Napoleon's head snapped up in surprise, he hadn't noticed the fourth man approaching. This one seemed to be the leader. Looking at him, Solo felt uneasy. The man was older than him, in his late forties, maybe fifty. He was balding. He was smiling, a warm, almost grandfatherly smile, but something in his eyes told Solo that this man was dangerous.

The newcomer addressed the man who had Illya in a chokehold. "Nice job, he's a big one." He whistled. "You might want to loosen your grip though, we don't want to kill him yet, he could be useful."

His eyes lingered on the unconscious Russian as his subordinate released him and he fell limply to the floor. The henchman then proceeded to roll the big Russian on his stomach and tied his hands behind his back. A few seconds later, Illya began to rouse and looked groggily around him. His eyes were itching. He tried to lift his hands to his face only to realize that he was restrained. His gaze finally focused on Solo and he shot him a questioning look.

Napoleon could almost see the question mark above his head. This would have been comical, had the situation not been so serious. If he was completely honest, Napoleon was as confused as his partner, he asked, "Why are we alive?"

The leader answered, "Well I was going to have you killed at first but then I realized that you have something that belongs to us. See, that file is very important to me and my superiors and I cannot leave without it."

Napoleon remained silent.

"We know that you took the file from the safe, you don't seem to have it with you, which means that you hid it somewhere. Now, my men have been looking everywhere and haven't been able to locate it. So I figured it would save us some time to ask you where you hid it. Then we would kill the two of you and be on our way"

Napoleon almost let out a sigh of relief. The man had said 'the two of you', and Gaby hadn't been brought in yet, no one seemed to be looking for her. She must have seen them coming and she'd abandoned the car to hide in the woods. They must have found the empty car and thought that it was only the two of them. Hopefully Gaby had already left to get reinforcements.

Meanwhile, they needed to buy some time and keep those men away from the file. That information falling into the wrong hands could have disastrous consequences. And those definitely seemed to be the wrong hands.

"I don't know what you are talking about. See my friend and I were lost in the woods when we came across this house. I must admit we were slightly disappointed when we realized that it wasn't made of gingerbread but we didn't steal any file."

The leader smiled, he still had that unnerving glint in his eyes.

"Let's get back inside. It's starting to rain and we will be much more comfortable down there. Then we can find a reasonable way of settling this matter."

One man behind Solo pressed a gun into his back and pushed him forward, he had no choice but to comply. His hands were tied and his own gun had been taken away when the men had pulled him back on the roof. Two of the goons were aiming guns at Illya's back and pushing him toward the opening that led to the roof. Other men were waiting inside, their guns trained on the Russian, in case he tried something.

There was almost a small army of them. Who were these men? Napoleon was getting worried.

 **End of the first chapter :)**


	2. Chapter 2

**Here is chapter 2, let me know what you think :) .**

They were led back down the stairs all the way to the second floor and entered a large living room. The lights were on now. Apparently their captors weren't worried about being caught.

He watched as Illya was pushed in a massive chair, they tied his ankles to the feet of the chair, and used another length of rope to tie his wrists and ankles together at the back of the chair.

 _Not good_ , Napoleon thought.

He himself was forcibly seated in another chair opposite Illya's.

"So, now that we are all warm and cozy, are you prepared to tell us what you did with our file?"

The leader kept addressing Solo, as if he was the one in charge, but his eyes were lingering on the Russian. This made Napoleon feel uneasy.

"I told you we don't know anything about your file, but if you would just release us, maybe we could help you look for it?"

Napoleon's voice was calm, his face composed, but he could feel that his pulse had quickened.

The leader smiled pleasantly.

"I had a feeling it wouldn't be that easy. Now let's see exactly what your partner means to you." He gestured to one of the two men who were standing behind Illya, "Cover his mouth".

The man produced a roll of duct tape and started wrapping it around Illya's head, covering his mouth.

Napoleon frowned. What were they doing? Was that to muffle Illya's screams? But why bother? The house was completely isolated. No one lived nearby. Gaby had told them that the owner rarely used the mansion, and he was away on a business trip so he wouldn't be coming here anytime soon.

They finished wrapping several layers of tape over Illya's mouth and chin. The Russian had struggled a bit and was now breathing rather heavily through his nose. The leader mockingly cocked his eyebrows.

"Now, now, what a noisy breather! We can barely hear ourselves think. I'm pretty sure that you will need some peace and quiet to be able to remember where you put our file"

The man raised his hand to Illya's face and that's when Napoleon put the pieces together.

He watched in horror as the leader pinched his partner's nose shut. The breathing sounds stopped. Illya immediately started struggling but the duct-tape man was behind him, firmly holding his head up, preventing him from moving.

"So, is your memory returning now?"

Napoleon looked into Illya's eyes, they were focused on him. The Russian was frowning and attempting to shake his head. Napoleon got the message "Don't give in, I can take it".

He gave an imperceptible nod and answered,

"To be honest, I find that his breathing helps me concentrate. Mind turning it back on?"

The leader smiled and turned his attention back to the Russian whose face was turning red and who was now struggling even harder.

Illya was starting to panic. He knew the man was not going to kill him just yet. He was only playing with him. He needed him as leverage to make Napoleon talk. But knowing that was little consolation. His chest was hurting, he could feel his heart jackhammering against his ribcage as if angry that Illya was not doing his job of supplying his body with enough oxygen. He couldn't move. He couldn't breathe!

Napoleon was looking at Illya. He saw the flash of panic in his partner's eyes. How long had this been going on? 2? 3 minutes? How long could his partner hold his breath? The leader looked unconcerned, he was smiling, enjoying himself. Napoleon needed to make it stop. The man was capable of 'accidentally' killing Illya. He needed to buy them some time…

"You might want to be careful or you'll break your new favorite toy", Napoleon said coldly.

"Oh don't concern yourself, I know what I'm doing, he's not even passed out yet, we're just getting started. Anything else you want to tell us now?"

Napoleon remained silent.

The man finally let go of Illya's nose and the Russian immediately started inhaling desperately through his nostrils, his chest heaving. In a mock affectionate gesture, the man patted Illya's sweat matted hair.

Solo let out a small sigh of relief. His relief was short lived though.

"Come now, your turn, just give it a try, you'll enjoy it"

The gun was back against Solo's back, encouraging him to get up and move closer. Napoleon felt his heart sink but managed to keep a calm voice.

"I'm pretty sure you're doing fine on your own"

The leader smiled.

"I insist. Or we can just shoot him dead right now, your choice"

One of the men standing to the right of the chair produced a gun and placed the muzzle against Illya's forehead.

Napoleon felt a drop of sweat trickle down his spine.

"You won't shoot him, or you'll lose your leverage"

"See that's where you're mistaken. I'm merely having fun here, but if you don't play along, I'll dispose of our big friend and take my chances with you"

Napoleon didn't know what to think, he had a hunch that the man was bluffing but he didn't want to risk Illya being shot on the spot.

Then he heard the leader's voice "Shoot him"

"Wait!", Napoleon shouted, struggling against the men holding him. The leader raised a hand, delaying the execution.

"Wait…", Napoleon said again, having composed himself, "I'll tell you where I hid the file".

He glanced at Illya, his partner's brows furrowed. Napoleon could almost hear the Russian's indignant tone "What do you think you are doing, Cowboy?"

The voice of the leader had him look away.

"Good. I'm glad you're finally coming to your senses. You will show us where you hid the file…after you've played with your partner for a while"

With a sadistic smile, the leader gestured for him to position himself in front of the chair.

Napoleon grimly complied. There was nothing else he could do. He was seriously hoping that Gaby would be there with help soon.

The man who had been holding the gun to Illya's head took a few steps back. The gun was now trained on the Russian's heart. No choice…

He raised his bound hands to his partner's face and hesitated. Illya's eyes seemed to be telling him "Do what you have to do, it's okay".

No it was not okay, it had taken some time before he'd started considering the Russian as a friend. He didn't want to torture his friend.

His eyes shifted again to the gun aimed at Illya's heart. _Come on Gaby, hurry…_

Then he pinched his partner's nose shut.

 **End of chapter 2**


	3. Chapter 3

**Here is chapter 3! Not sure if I'm satisfied with this one. I hope you still enjoy it.**

Gaby was shivering. Had she known she was going to have to go through the woods and up the road on foot, she would have brought a thicker jacket. Then again things had not exactly gone according to plan. She had heard the cars approaching and had just had enough time to silently open the door and slip out of their vehicle. She had immediately made for the cover of the woods.

Then she had seen a group of men enter the house while others stayed behind and checked the car she had just left. The way they had moved, swift, silent and organized, had made her wonder if they were military. They had all been carrying guns too. From her hiding place she had seen Napoleon drop a folder in the bushes near the house. Then she had seen Napoleon himself drop from the roof. Her heart had missed a beat but luckily the fool had managed to grab onto the edge. Her relief had been short lived though as the hands that had pulled the American back onto the roof belonged to the mysterious armed men. That could mean only one thing: Illya and Napoleon had been caught.

Gaby had waited until she was sure no one was around, then she had darted to the bushes and retrieved the file.

With the men posted at the door, attempting to go inside the house to rescue Illya and Napoleon had been out of the question. She couldn't go back to the car either. And she couldn't hide there forever. She knew that if she really wanted to help her partners she would have to move, she couldn't risk being caught. She had made up her mind to get to a safer place first. So she had quickly made her way out of the woods and back to the road. Then she had managed to contact Waverly who had set up a temporary headquarters in the area. They were supposed to meet him there after the mission. He had wanted the file delivered to him in person and as soon as possible.

After she had explained the whole situation, Waverly had told her to stay put, that he would get some men ready and come pick her up.

"Then perhaps we'll drop by the house and see if we can rescue the rest of your team.", he had added.

Gaby was really hoping there would be something left to rescue by the time they got there. She knew her partners could take care of themselves but the three of them had been taken completely by surprise and she couldn't help but worry about what might be happening to them.

Napoleon was straining to keep his face impassive as he was forced to torture his partner. He knew their captor was watching him, eagerly waiting for a reaction. He wasn't going to give the man that satisfaction. It wasn't easy though, Illya's face looked like a blue-eyed tomato. The panic was back in his eyes and Napoleon could feel him struggling under his hand. With the little air he had managed to trap, the Russian let out an involuntary, muffled sound of distress.

 _I know Peril, I'm sorry. I'll buy you a drink when this is over._

He was now certain that Gaby hadn't been caught. He made quick calculations in his head. She would have already contacted Waverly by now. With a little luck reinforcements would be on the way soon. He just needed to make sure Illya survived until then. No pressure. He was doing such a good job so far.

 _Let me see if I can make this a bit easier for you._

Napoleon slightly loosened his grip, allowing his partner to inhale once, twice…

"Now, now, no cheating."

"I think he's had enough", Napoleon snapped.

"I'm afraid that's not for you to decide. You're being much too gentle. Here, let me help you".

In an unexpectedly swift motion, the man covered Napoleon's hand with his own, trapping his fingers and Illya's sorry nose in a vise-like grip. He was squeezing so hard that the Russian's eyes were watering. Napoleon attempted to jerk his hand free but two of the man's henchmen grabbed his arms, immobilizing them.

Solo groaned inwardly. _Great, Santa's little helpers…_

Their captor's eyes were fixated on the Russian. He was licking his lips, enjoying his victim's desperate attempts to escape his grip. After a short while the man checked his watch and whistled. "One minute. He's doing remarkably well for someone under stress"

Of course Illya wasn't doing well at all. Napoleon had given him a short moment of respite but he knew he couldn't take much more. His lungs were on fire and he desperately wanted to breathe but he could also feel that he was getting weaker. Black spots were already dancing before his eyes. Dancing…he should have danced with Gaby…

He felt himself slipping away.

The man was checking his watch again. "Two minutes, now that's impressive"

That's when Solo felt the change. Illya wasn't struggling as hard as before. His eyes had lost their focus. That wasn't good. His friend was running out of time.

"You're killing him!"

Napoleon was no longer capable of keeping the alarm out of his voice. _Dammit!_ That wasn't going to help Illya.

"No…", the leader chuckled. " **You** are killing him"

Napoleon felt his gut twisting. Not only was he watching helplessly as his friend's life was slipping away, he could also **feel** Illya dying under his hand…

Just when he thought that the man was actually going to make him kill his partner, the crushing pressure on his fingers disappeared and his hand was released. The men who had been immobilizing his arms pulled him back as Illya inhaled explosively.

Solo himself let out a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding. _That was far too close_.

He worriedly studied his partner. The Russian was in bad shape, slumped in the chair, his head sagging on his chest. His hair was wet with sweat and sticking to his forehead.

"Still with us?", their captor inquired, patting Illya on the chest just a little too hard. "I'm actually impressed, you're doing such a good job, very entertaining."

Illya made an effort to raise his head and shot the man a murderous glare. If the fury Napoleon saw in his partner's eyes was any indication, Illya still had some fight left in him. Solo was sure that no matter how exhausted he might be, his partner would gladly snap the man's neck if given the opportunity. He almost smiled at the thought. Almost. Then their captor's voice brought him back to reality.

"Well what do you think, should we let him rest for a while? I think he's earned it. In the meantime, you can tell us where the file is."

 _The file…_ Napoleon had almost forgotten about the damn file. He only now remembered that he had agreed to talk to save the Russian's life. But of course he couldn't risk it falling into the hands of their insane captor.

"So, are you going to talk now or should we have another little session with our big friend?"

"No! No need for that. I'll talk. "

He glanced at Illya. His partner was talking with his eyebrows again. His blue eyes were wide open and he was frowning furiously. Illya was becoming quite good at this. He could have been one of those actors in silent movies. Napoleon could almost imagine the framed, white caption on a black background: "…Keep your mouth shut Cowboy, or I'll wring your neck!...". But if he was being honest, he was actually starting to miss the Russian's voice. For now he would have to settle for his indignant frowning though.

Solo knew from experience that the best lies were often sprinkled with truth. If he was going to send their captors on a wild-goose chase he needed it to sound authentic. Putting on his best impression of a sullen, defeated man, Napoleon started talking.

"I threw the file in the trees around the house, from the east corner of the roof. On the opposite side from the one where you found me dangling."

Solo detected a slight change in his partner's expression. _Play along, Peril, just play along…_

Their captor was watching Napoleon intently, a strange smile playing on his lips.

"Good, very good. If it turns out that you're lying, I can guarantee you that your precious partner will suffer so much he'll wish you had let him take a bullet to the head."

Once again, Napoleon felt a trickle of sweat run down his back.

 _Then let's hope you won't have time to find out I'm lying._

 **End of chapter 3**


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4: Uh-oh, things are getting worse. Thanks for the reviews, I hope you guys are still enjoying the story :)**

Their captor had sent most of his men outside to look for the file. There was only one man left to guard Napoleon and the leader himself who was standing close to Illya. If Napoleon was going to try something, now was the time. He would probably not get another opportunity. He just needed to get his hands on a gun, neutralize the leader who didn't seem to be armed, free Illya. Then, once they were free and armed, they would have a much better chance of escaping.

First, the gun. He had one pointed at his back. He needed to make sure it ended up in his hand. Suddenly, he stepped back diagonally, his back pushing the guard's gun arm away, at the same time he rammed his elbow into the man's gut. Then Solo pivoted and swung his bound arms at the guard's face. His fisted hands connected with the man's temple and he was out cold. Solo crouched to pick up the gun.

"I would strongly advise against doing that."

Solo turned around. The leader's hand was no longer empty, it was now holding a gun. At the business end of that gun was Illya's head. The Russian was rolling his eyes.

 _Oh come on!_ This was getting old.

Two guards, who had probably been posted outside the door, came in, alerted by the scuffle. They pointed their guns at Solo who raised his hands in surrender. _Well that was a success…_

"Getting restless, are we?", The leader said mockingly as the guards kicked the gun away from Solo. "Tie him to that armchair"

Napoleon was tied to another massive armchair much in the same way that Illya was.

"Comfortable? At least now you won't be going anywhere. That wasn't a very clever move, my friend."

"Well, you can't blame a man for trying, can you", Napoleon replied dryly.

The man gave a curt laugh. Then he suddenly spun around and, without any warning, he punched Illya in the face, hard. Before the Russian could recover, their captor delivered another couple of vicious punches to his chest.

Napoleon was stunned by the sudden outburst of violence.

"What was that for?"

"That was me actually blaming you for trying.", the man replied.

The attack had been sudden. Short, but brutal. Illya's face hurt, but the worst pain was the one in his chest. When the man had punched him, he had felt something crack and he was pretty sure that at least one of his ribs was broken. It hurt to breathe. Was Cowboy actually trying to get him killed?

Napoleon winced in sympathy at the sight of his partner's face. The first blow had caught the Russian in the nose and a trickle of blood was running from one of his nostrils. The man produced a handkerchief and pressed it to Illya's nose. He then wiped away the blood that was trickling from it.

"Here, we wouldn't want you to choke on your own blood."

As he was uttering the words, he patted Illya's chest again and was surprised by the Russian's sharp intake of breath.

"Oh, oh, what's the matter? Looks like we might have broken something. Tell me, where does it hurt? Here? Or is it here?"

Again, Illya inhaled sharply, his body tensing.

"Ah, right here." The man smiled. He gently positioned his hand on the side of Illya's chest, then he gave a sudden, vicious push to the Russian's ribs.

Illya let out a muffled cry of pain.

"What was that? I couldn't hear you." The man said, applying even more pressure to Illya's ribs.

Though it was still muffled by the tape, the Russian's groan of pain was much louder this time and it made Napoleon's gut twist. His partner's head was tilted back, his eyes screwed shut against the wave of pain. He was taking in short, jerky breaths.

The man removed his hand and when Illya finally opened his eyes, they were filled with murderous rage. Napoleon had a pretty good idea of what was going on in his partner's mind. He knew how much the Russian hated being helpless. He was probably also furious with himself for not being able to stifle his cries of pain. If Illya had not been restrained, there was a good chance that he would have already destroyed everything and everyone in the room, including Napoleon himself. In a way, Solo was actually glad that his partner couldn't speak, it would probably have made things much worse.

Napoleon's train of thought was interrupted as several men entered the room. The leader walked to the door and started talking with one of them. Napoleon could not hear what they were saying but he had a feeling that things were not about to get better for them.

 _What's taking you so long, Gaby? I hope you're not having tea with Waverly while your 'fiance' is getting beaten to a pulp.  
_

Their captor was back. The cold anger in his eyes belied the pleasant smile that was still pasted on his lips. Again, Napoleon felt his pulse quicken.

"Well, it seems that we have a problem here. My men looked everywhere, searched the trees and bushes all around the house, and there was no trace of the file. So, either it spread its cardboard wings and flew away to warmer regions, or… you lied."

Napoleon remained silent.

 _The trees and bushes_ _ **all around the house**? _ And they had found nothing. Now that was a surprising twist. One he could have done without.

The man interpreted his silence as a confession.

"This is very unfortunate. I warned you that there would be consequences if you lied to me. Now my patience is wearing thin and I will need to report to my superiors at some point. So we're going to play one last game together." The man took his gun out and started pacing. "The rules are fairly simple. You tell me the actual, exact location of the file or I shoot our big blond friend. Not a lethal shot of course, that would be too easy. If you hesitate too long, I shoot him. Every time you lie, I shoot him. You get to choose where the bullet goes, though. So let's try this again. Where did you hide the file?"

Napoleon didn't know what to do. Was it wise to send them on another wild-goose chase? They would be expecting it and when they found out, this could have terrible consequences for Illya. He decided to stick to his partially true version for now.

"I told you I dropped it in the bushes around the house"

"Please be reasonable. If it was there, my men would have found it."

"Well maybe your men are just not good at finding things. If you would just untie me and let me show you the exact location…"

"So that you can try and escape again. No, this is a terrible idea, you need to talk, now."

Napoleon was getting tired of the man's games.

"I already told you where it is I have nothing else to say."

The man stopped pacing and positioned himself in front of Illya.

"Ah. Maybe we should do a practice round then. So where should the first bullet go?"

The gun was hovering in front of the Russian's body as if the man was trying to decide where to aim.

"Tell me, what is it going to be? His leg? His foot?" Napoleon saw Illya's gaze follow the muzzle of the gun as it moved up. "Maybe his shoulder? Or I could shoot one of his fingers off, what do you think?"

Was the man serious? Was he actually going to shoot Illya until Napoleon told him what he wanted to know?

"Listen, you don't have to do that…", Napoleon began.

"Oh but I do. And I must admit I am rather enjoying it. Now either you decide where the first bullet goes or I'll do it for you. The kneecap is one of my personal favorites."

Napoleon was out of options. The man was crazy. He looked at his partner, trying to decide where a bullet would do the least damage. _Ear is too close to his head, shoulder too close to his heart and lungs, fingers, hands and feet could mean crippling damage_...He couldn't make that kind of choice. This was crazy.

 _If you're planning on rescuing us, now would be an excellent time, Gaby!_

"I'm waiting!"

"In the forearm", Napoleon muttered.

"Speak up I can't hear you.", He smiled cruelly. " **Your partner** can't hear you."

"In the forearm, shoot him in the left forearm", Napoleon repeated, reluctantly raising his voice. He was feeling sick. He saw Illya's eyes widen as the man moved to position himself behind the chair.

 _I'm sorry Illya…_

 **End of chapter 4**


	5. Chapter 5

**Final chapter! Thanks again for the reviews :) , it's nice to have some feedback, especially since it's my first story :s . I hope I wasn't too mean to the characters :p and that you guys like the ending.**

Waverly and Gaby were silently making their way through the woods. Gaby was glad that their boss had decided to accompany her. With his reassuring manner, the man had a way of making you believe that everything was going to be fine.

"The plan is simple.", Waverly had said. "You and I go in first. They won't be expecting anybody so it should be pretty easy to enter undetected. So when they hear or spot the vehicles we'll be inside already. The cars will be a good diversion. Their attention will be focused on what's going on outside and this will allow us to move more easily inside the house and find Solo and Kuryakin. Our mission is to rescue your partners. My men will take care of the rest. We'll have other vehicles further up the road to block their escape."

Yes the plan was simple. Gaby was only hoping they wouldn't be too late.

 _Illya, please be alive. And you too Napoleon, of course._

The man was taking his time. He was making a show of choosing the best shooting distance and the right angle. Solo was watching his partner. Illya's body had tensed up in anticipation of the pain. Napoleon's eyes shifted back to their captor. The man had paused and was also staring at Illya. To Napoleon's surprise, he set his gun down on the top of a rather expensive looking piece of furniture and moved closer to the back of the chair. Then he suddenly grabbed a fistful of the Russian's hair and forced his head back, exposing his throat. He pressed his fingers to Illya's carotid artery and smiled as he felt his racing pulse.

"My, my, your partner's heart is beating awfully fast. I think the poor young man is scared. Won't you say something to reassure him?"

Napoleon resisted the urge to roll his eyes. Of course Illya was scared. He was tied to a chair with a sadist about to use him for target practice. He had an excellent reason to be scared. But he also knew that the man's words were meant to humiliate his partner and, knowing Illya, it was probably working.

Disappointed by Napoleon's silence, their captor went on, "There no reason to worry, really. I'm a good shot, I won't miss."

The awkward position was straining Illya's neck and he was starting to fidget. This seemed to amuse the man who waited a bit longer before he finally let go of the agent's hair. Then he stepped back, picked up his gun again and aimed it at Illya's forearm.

"I wonder if he's going to faint.", he said, winking at Napoleon.

Just as he was pulling the trigger, the door flew open.

Illya heard the gun go off, he closed his eyes reflexively. For a moment he was only aware of the painful pounding of his own heart, it felt like it was going to break the rest of his ribs and burst out of his chest. Then he felt something trickling down his forearm. Blood. Something was off though. Why was he feeling no pain? For an awful few seconds he wondered if his arm had been so damaged that he had lost feeling in it. But no, that wasn't it, there **was** some pain but it was nothing compared to what he had been expecting. It was more of a stinging sensation. His heart was still racing but at least it was no longer at risk of shooting out of his chest and ending up on Napoleon's lap. He opened his eyes.

Napoleon had seen the door fly open a fraction of a second before the gunshot. The sudden noise had surprised their captor and had thrown his aim off slightly. The bullet had ended its course in the door of a cabinet to Napoleon's right. From where he was he couldn't see Illya's arm but his partner didn't seem to be in much pain, the bullet must have missed him or just grazed his arm. The man responsible for this positive turn of events was one of their captor's subordinates. He was now standing in front of his superior.

"I hope you have a very good reason for making me miss my shot."

"The men on the roof spotted vehicles coming up the road!"

"Vehicles? How many?"

"At least five large vehicles, they look military. We need to leave soon, Sir."

Vehicles? Military? It had to be Gaby and the reinforcements. Napoleon felt a wave of relief.

"We are not leaving without the file."

"We'll be outnumbered, Sir."

The leader let out a loud exclamation of rage. He holstered his gun and quickly made his way around the chair in which Illya was sitting.

"Tell me where the damn file is! Now!", he roared at Napoleon. Then he punched Illya in the chest, in the exact spot where he had broken his rib earlier. One, two, three times.

Illya felt pain exploding in his chest. It was so intense that he thought he was going to black out. The man was now pushing his fingers into his abused ribs. He could feel the bones grinding. It hurt so much. _Please make it stop…_ He let out a long muffled howl of agony.

Napoleon winced when he heard the Russian's scream. Their captor was obviously desperate and he was trying to inflict as much pain as he could on Illya in the little time he had left, hoping it would make Napoleon talk.

 _Just hold on a little longer Peril. Help is coming._

The man who had come to warn his superior called out: " Sir, there is no time. We need to leave now."

The leader swore and took his gun out. He pressed the muzzle against Illya's chest, directly over his heart. Napoleon felt his own heart sink.

 _No…_

Illya managed to raise his head and met the man's eyes with a defiant glare. The man's finger hesitated on the trigger. Then he lowered the gun.

"I have a better idea." He smiled. "Tell the others that we're leaving, now!", he barked at his subordinate. "You", he said, gesturing to another man "Hold his head still." Then, to Napoleon's horror, he went to pick up the discarded roll of duct tape. He quickly wrapped several other layers of tape around Illya's head, completely covering his nose. Then he smiled at Napoleon. "That way you still get to watch your partner die. Slowly, and painfully."

Then he was gone.

Napoleon and Illya looked at each other. They both knew that help would never arrive in time to save the Russian. Napoleon tried to use his weight to move the chair but it was too heavy. It wouldn't have done much good anyway. His arms were stretched behind his back with a rope tying his wrists and his ankles together. He would never have been able to remove the tape from his partner's face.

Illya's wide eyes were fixated on him. He saw fear in them and his heart constricted. It hurt to know that this man who had saved his life several times before was going to die and there was nothing Napoleon could do to help him.

"Hey, come on Peril, I'm pretty sure that this is a walk in the park compared to KGB training."

He tried to keep his tone light but despair was creeping up on him.

Illya let out a distressed whimper and started thrashing violently against his bonds. Napoleon was beginning to beat himself up for denying Illya a quick death by not letting their captors shoot him through the heart. Then he heard a gunshot, and voices. Close.

"Hey! Hear that Peril? That means the cavalry is here!", then he shouted "In here! We're in here!"

The door flew open and Waverly appeared, followed closely by Gaby.

Upon entering the room, Waverly was confronted with a strange scene. His agents were both tied to heavy armchairs, facing each other. Solo, usually calm and composed, had a look of panic on his face. "Help Illya!", he shouted. Waverly rushed to the Russian agent's side and spotted the tape covering his mouth and nose. _Bloody hell!_ No wonder Solo was so agitated. Waverly knelt in front of his agent and produced a knife. The Russian's head looked like it was about to explode. Waverly quickly placed the tip of his knife under the tape and started cutting as fast as he could without also cutting his agent's face. Then he saw Illya's eyes roll back and, forgetting all caution, sliced through the layers of tape in one swift motion. In the meantime, Gaby had cut his bonds. Waverly lowered the younger man to the floor as quickly and as gently as he could. He laid him flat on his back.

"Careful", Napoleon warned, "he probably has a couple of broken ribs on his right side"

"Duly noted", Waverly replied. He was watching the Russian's chest worriedly. A hand held close to Illya's nose gave him confirmation.

"Miss Teller…"

But he didn't need to say more Gaby was already tilting Illya's head back. She pinched his nose, covered his mouth with hers and blew air into his lungs. Waverly watched the agent's chest rise and fall, he waited for it to rise again, it didn't.

"Come on, Kuryakin, don't be stubborn."

Gaby breathed a second time into the Russian's mouth and this time he stirred and started gasping. Waverly quickly cut the collar of his turtleneck open so that he would breathe more easily. Napoleon let out an audible sigh of relief.

Illya was finally able to breathe normally, that felt good. Someone was cradling his head and a gentle hand was smoothing his hair back from his forehead, that felt good too. Gaby? There was someone else too. Waverly? What was he doing here? Where was Cowboy? Illya was confused. He tried to push himself up but the sudden pain in his chest made him gasp.

"Easy Kuryakin, I am told that you have a couple of broken ribs?" Waverly helped him sit up.

Napoleon chose this moment to clear his throat noisily.

"Hum, well this chair is really comfortable and I don't mind being tied up from time to time but I seem to have developed an itch on my nose. Now that Peril is feeling much better, could one of you untie me, please?"

"Miss Teller would you mind freeing Mr. Solo while I'm having a look at Mr. Kuryakin's ribs?"

Gaby rushed to Napoleon's side and quickly cut through his bonds.

"You found us just in time, how did you get here so fast?", Napoleon asked her.

"We went in first. We used the cars as a diversion so that we could go in undetected and look for you."

"Hmm, about the file…", Napoleon began.

"The file is in a safe place, Solo.", Waverly replied as he lifted Illya's shirt to examine his chest. "Miss Teller took great care of it and delivered it to me."

 _So that's why the men couldn't find it. It was with Gaby all along._

"What about the men? Who are they?"

"I haven't the faintest idea, but my men will have neutralized them and brought them to the headquarters for questioning. It's always good to know who your enemies are."

"Well I'm sure Illya would be glad to take part in the questioning."

"I don't doubt that he would but first Mr Kuryakin is going to have his ribs checked by a doctor."

Illya groaned.

"No need. I am fine now."

"I'm sure you are", Gaby said, lightly touching his ribs with her index finger. This made him hiss in pain. He blushed slightly and gave her a sheepish look. Napoleon repressed a chuckle and Waverly smiled.

"If you don't touch I'll be fine.", Illya grunted, wrapping a protective arm around his chest.

Gaby frowned as she spotted the bullet graze on his forearm.

"And what is THAT?"

"Just a graze, the leader of the men tried to shoot me."

"In the forearm?", Gaby asked, surprised.

"Cowboy suggested the forearm."

"What?! Solo told him to shoot you in the forearm?!"

Uh-oh, she was calling him Solo, that wasn't a good sign. She glared at Napoleon. Waverly had his 'You're on your own' smile on. Solo held his hands up and flashed Gaby his best placating smile.

"In my defense, I was trying to save him from a bullet to the kneecap." He tried to ignore her scowl. "By the way, you should consider yourself lucky, Peril. If you hadn't been sitting down and tied to the chair, I would have told him to shoot you in the backside."

Now he had two pairs of eyes glaring at him.

Gaby started shaking her head. "I thought you two were past trying to kill each other."

Napoleon and Illya shared a glance.

 _Please don't tell her I suffocated you…_

"Hey I worked hard to keep the man alive. You should all be thanking me.", Solo said with a smile.

"Thanks Cowboy."

"I was joking, Peril."

"I mean it."

Solo looked him in the eye and nodded.

Waverly smiled.

"A delightfully touching scene. Now let's clean up this mess and leave, shall we? Kuryakin still needs to have his ribs looked at."

Looking at Illya's mortified expression, Napoleon chuckled. He was definitely glad that his partner was alive.

 **The End.**

 **Let me know what you think, and please don't kill me over medical inaccuracies :s.**

 **Also, about Waverly accompanying Gaby for the rescue mission, I don't know much about Waverly in the movie but I know that in the old series he would sometimes work as a field agent when Napoleon and Illya needed to be rescued or when they screwed up the mission. I liked that aspect of him in the series so I used it in my story.**


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